


No Other Love

by rubychan05



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Brotherly Love, Drug Addiction, Gen, Holmes Brothers, Holmes Brothers' Childhood, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:30:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubychan05/pseuds/rubychan05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Sherlock at six months old is a curiosity, a brand new puzzle Mycroft’s parents have given him to solve. An ugly puzzle, to be sure, but one can’t have everything in life.'</p><p>Mycroft looks back and regrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Other Love

Sherlock at six months old is a curiosity, a brand new puzzle Mycroft’s parents have given him to solve. An ugly puzzle, to be sure, but one can’t have everything in life.

His parents smile at Sherlock’s endless repetition of ‘ba’, ‘ma’ and ‘ga’, talking back in nonsense language that has Mycroft rolling his eyes and Sherlock looking distinctly unimpressed. They think that Sherlock’s too young to communicate with words, but Mycroft knows different.

Just because they can’t understand the language, doesn’t mean that Sherlock can’t talk.

It takes eight days of concentrated study before Mycroft can crack Sherlock’s baby talk, and the results are priceless. Sherlock’s eyes grow huge, little mouth falling open as he stares up at his big brother in shock. A stuffed dog is offered as a prize; Mycroft takes it solemnly, small smile twitching at his lips and threatening to ruin the illusion.

Within the week, Sherlock’s linguistic repertoire has expanded to include ‘my’. Their parents think he’s hitting the possessive stage early. Mycroft knows better.

* * *

Sherlock at six years old is a pain, endlessly following Mycroft around the manor and refusing to let him have any time to himself. Mycroft repeatedly tells him to go away, shutting room doors on him and ignoring the petulant complaining until it dies away into silence.

It doesn’t work – inevitably, he’ll open the door later only to find Sherlock waiting outside – and Mycroft finds himself growing increasingly frustrated. Pleas to Mummy only result in her cooing and smiling at their ‘special bond’. Useless woman.

It all comes to a head when Lindsay, the one girl worth a jot in Mycroft’s class, comes over for a study session. Sherlock just won’t go away, no matter how many times Mycroft asks him politely. Ignoring him doesn’t work either: every time they try to focus on quadratic equations a toy car will come clicking over the page, or Sherlock’s ball will knock over their pile of books.

After thirty minutes, Mycroft snaps. He picks Sherlock up and carries him down to the wine cellar, depositing him in the middle of the floor and jogging away before Sherlock can react. He shuts the door and walks away, pretending he can’t hear the pathetic whimpers coming from inside.

Sherlock’s afraid of the dark.

When Mycroft finally comes to let Sherlock out, it’s three hours later and he has lipstick marks on his neck. Sherlock is silent as he stumbles out, eyes red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears. His hurt, betrayed face makes Mycroft’s stomach twist unpleasantly, but by then it’s too late.

It takes three weeks to get Sherlock to talk to him. It takes three months to get Sherlock to have an actual conversation with him again.

* * *

Sherlock at sixteen years old is a silent stranger who glares at Mycroft every time they’re in the same room. Understandably this rather upsets Mummy, who often ends up crying discreetly into her handkerchief when she thinks no one can see her.

It’s simply not good enough, but Sherlock seems unable to understand whenever Mycroft lays it out for him. If Mycroft’s lucky, Sherlock may remember to play nice for a few days. Most times he simply doesn’t bother, preferring to make snide remarks about Mycroft’s weight at the dinner table, or mock Mycroft for the fact that he got less than a hundred percent on his Computing A-level.

When Mycroft moves to London, he finds the stuffed dog Sherlock gave him in a box at the back of his wardrobe. He thinks about his baby brother, gap toothed and trusting, and feels a pang of regret for what has come to pass.

As the taxi pulls away from the house, Mycroft catches a glimpse of Sherlock in the music room window. He’d refused to come outside to wish Mycroft goodbye, and even now his expression is blank, closed off as he watches Mycroft leave.

Mycroft raises a hand in farewell and feels a spark of hope when, after an age, Sherlock inclines his head in return.

* * *

Sherlock at twenty six years old is a quivering wreck, high on cocaine even as they bury Grandfather in the family plot. His eyes are bloodshot and ringed with dark circles, hair falling lank about his face as he lights up a cigarette with shaking fingers.

After the funeral, Mycroft catches his arm. Tries to talk to him.

Sherlock shrugs him off and stumbles away in silence.

**Author's Note:**

> I love the Holmes brothers. As much as I crave details about their childhood, I paradoxically also don't want to know anything - I have so many headcanons that I don't want them erased by the truth.
> 
> Title inspired by this quote: 'there’s no other love like the love for a brother. There’s no other love like the love from a brother.'
> 
> Read more: http://www.keepinspiring.me/quotes-about-brothers/#ixzz3UUZWF9kr
> 
> Find me on Tumblr under [rubychan05](http://rubychan05.tumblr.com/).


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